Mosaic of Memories
by WhimsicalSanity
Summary: Growing up is never easy. Whenever you're a hybrid growing up in a world of humans, vampires, and werewolves, growing up sometimes seems impossible. Explore the life and times of Renesmee Cullen through a series of one-shots showcasing the relationships with the people most important to her. [Canon, varying time periods]
1. Alice

_**Aunt Alice**_

_Fashion fades._

_Only style remains the same._

-Coco Chanel

* * *

Prom; the proverbial rite of passage for the typical teenager, yet I'm nothing close to being a typical teen. Truth be told, I'm only six and a half. The reflection in the mirror tells a different story, though. Copper ringlets cascade against the powder blue dress hugging my frame that resembles a sixteen year old young woman.

"No! This is nothing like what I had in mind," proclaims my Aunt Alice in her high-pitched voice.

Before I get the chance to voice my own mirroring distaste, the pixie-like vampire has danced her way over to the rack of prom dresses. The scrape of the hangers against the metal rod is loud, and I begin peeling the dress away from my porcelain skin to distract myself.

Prom was never something I intended to indulge in. With the prospect of eternity before me, I thought I could catch up on that human experience down the road. Then, Jake had to drop the bomb this morning that he'd never been to prom before. It tugged on my heartstrings, and here we are. Five hours until the dance kicks off, and I don't even have a dress. All morning, Alice has been scouring the boutiques in Port Angeles, and nothing has even come close to her standards yet.

A flurry of activity reels me back into the present, and a mass of deep red fabric is pushed into my arms.

"Try this."

"But Alice…"

"No buts, Nessie. Try it. For me? Please?"

The innocence inflected into her words wins me over, and with a practiced speed, the dress is a blur as it slides over my head and down onto my slender figure. Before the corset lacing has a chance to be tied, Alice is shaking her head.

"We need something lighter. How do you feel about a crème lace design? It'll flatter the tone of your skin perfectly."

Without waiting for my approval, Alice disappears to the rack again with a more pronounced bounce in her step. Like the dress before it, the red one winds up on the top of the pile in the floor. Shopping with Aunt Alice isn't usually this painful. The knot of nerves in my stomach is also influencing my demeanor. The prospect of a night with Jake seems perfect, but the idea of a night with Jake around my high school peers doesn't. It's only been a short while since we've moved into the "boyfriend/girlfriend" territory, and I'm often left to wonder what he thinks of my status as a senior at Forks High School.

"Ah hah!"

The chime-like announcement reveals that the dress has been found, and I pivot on bare heel to take in the dress. Immediately, I know it, too. A lace overlay the exact pale crème color of the fabric underneath screams feminine elegance, but the above-the-knee length adds a flirty twist. With sure place footing, the dress begins to rise over my form. Once it's securely in place and Aunt Alice has fixed the zipper, I drink in the effect in the mirror. The fabric underneath the lace overlay is cut into a sweetheart neckline, but the lace reaches the hollow of my throat. Palms glide over the front of the dress and across the cinched waist. It's perfect, except my father may have an issue with the length. Blunt edges of pearly whites comb over my lower lip in a habit picked up from my Mom, and chocolate eyes find Aunt Alice's glowing amber pair.

"Is it too short? You know how Dad is," I start, a hint of worry in my tone.

"You let me handle your father, Nessie. It's perfect, and I won't have you going to your first prom in anything else," An almost too chipper Alice replies, her tiny hands clapping together in a show of bubbly excitement.

My lids flutter closed, and a picture materializes in my mind of Jacob and me walking into prom. Nestled in my up-do of bronze locks is Mom's heirloom hair comb from the wedding. A pair of Aunt Alice's towering Louboutins completes the vision.

Excitement surges inside of me, and Aunt Alice's proximity allows me the usage of my gift to convey my wish for the night. Her arm is cinching my waist in an embrace as we stare at the mirror, and I shift slightly to press my palm against her cheek. The chill of her porcelain skin seeps into my hand as I reimagine the same mental picture of Jacob and me waltzing into the prom. A twinkle lights up her yellow irises and before I realize it, she's on the phone with Mom.

"Bella, hi. We found the dress. It's perfect."

Aunt Alice's phone conversation carries on as an attendant unzips me from the dress, and I carefully step out of the frock. Passing it over to the attendant to place in a dress bag for safe transport, I duck back into the dressing room to retrieve the outfit I had worn today.

"No, it's very lady-like, maybe a bit on the short side."

Even the walls of the dressing room do little to muffle the excitement in her voice, and I shake my head in amusement as I step into my skinny jeans, one leg at a time.

"Well, Edward will get over it. This is Nessie's first prom, after all. Anyway, the reason I'm calling; Nessie thinks the hair comb from your parents would make the perfect accessory."

Waiting with baited breath to hear if Mom approves, I quickly tug on my lace camisole. Once my cardigan is pulled on, I retrace my steps back out of the dressing room in time to hear Alice's excitement double.

"Wonderful! Thank you, Bella! We'll be home before you know it."

Thankfully, the attendant is already at the register ringing up our purchase, and she doesn't notice Alice's inhuman speed as my pixie-haired Aunt races to give me a hug.

"It's all set! Your prom is going to be perfect, Nessie. Let's go pay for this, and we can start back towards Forks. Everyone sounded excited!"

"Okay, Aunt Alice. Thank you for all of this. I'm really hoping Jake likes the dress," the words roll of my tongue in a whispered voice just as teeth connect with my lower lip in the signature nervous habit.

"Shush. If Jake can't see how beautiful you look, we'll have to get the pup's eyes checked."

A note of laughter bubbles over my coral brims at my family's choice nickname for my Jake. At first, it had bothered me. With time, I've learned that the respect between Jake and my family is solid and playful terms of endearment are a vital part of the relationship.

As Aunt Alice busies herself with paying for the dress, with one of Jasper's credit cards in true Alice fashion, my keen eyesight takes in the rest of the boutique. An entire corner is dedicated to bridal fashion, and I'm inundated with the amount of starch white tulle veils and mounds of fabric that I suspect to be the wedding gowns. Fondly, I recall the pictures of my parent's wedding. The simplicity of Mom's dress suddenly becomes even more appreciated. A heated blush crawls up my cheeks as I idly wonder what my wedding dress will look like one day. _Way to rush the relationship, _I chide myself internally.

"We're all set, Ness."

Aunt Alice's chipper voice breaks through my thoughts, and I'm reeled back to the present. Flashing the attendant a thankful smile, I turn to Aunt Alice and nod to signal my readiness to leave. In one hand, she holds the dress bag containing my prom attire. Her other reaches out for mine, and hand-in-hand, we glide out of the boutique towards the canary yellow Porsche 911 turbo.

Life is a series of first times followed in succession by rewrites and second chances. But as for my first prom, I know I won't need a second chance. My family will ensure that it's the most memorable night not only for me, but for my Jake.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is my first fanfic, and I appreciate any and all reviews/critiques.

I'm hoping to do a series of one shots through the eyes of Renesmee, each focusing on a different person in her life.

All canon, but the time periods will vary per person.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Obviously, these characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm borrowing them solely for entertainment purposes.


	2. Charlie

_**Grandpa Charlie**_

_Perfect love sometimes does not come until the first grandchild._

-Welsh Proverb

* * *

Tiny fingertips trace the design on my new bracelet, my Christmas present from my Jake. Around me, Grandpa Charlie's house is buzzing with holiday activities. This is my first Christmas, and I can see what the fuss is about. Every heightened sense is exhausted with the colorful displays, the smells of evergreens and comfort food, and the hugs of so many strangers that are quickly becoming friends. But no embrace matches that of my Grandpa Charlie's. He has a signature smell, gunmetal, the outdoors, and something bitter like barley, and every pull I take in of it when I'm wrapped snuggly in his arms is comforting beyond measure.

"How does my favorite girl like Christmas?" he says as I curl up in his lap.

Overwhelmed by the crowd of people in the living room around us, my tiny arm stretches out to allow my palm placement against his cheek. I'm not supposed to use my gift on him, but words truly fail me at the sensory overload of the day. I reply my favorite memories from the day; decorating the tree, the Christmas carols with everyone singing off-key and the wolf pack howling, the presents too numerous to list, and this moment now, the safety of a grandfather's lap.

A smile lights up his entire face, climbing high enough underneath his bristly mustache to crinkle the corners of his eyes. Just like me, Grandpa Charlie is a man of few words. But that smile is a secret agreement with me. This day can't get any better.

Sue is rushing around the modest house in an effort to clean up the messes as they happen. Her plan isn't working, though. Seth and Jake are going through plates of food faster than she can pile the dishes in the sink.

"You sure you don't want to go fishing with Sue and me, Nessie? I bet you'd catch the biggest one yet," Grandpa Charlie interrupts my observation, but I don't mind.

"No, thank you," I retort politely. "Fish are friends, Grandpa!" A giggle punctuates my last sentence, and his smile climbs even higher.

"Just wait until I take you to your first fish fry on the reservation, kiddo. You'll be singing a different tune."

My nose curls up in mock disgust before the laughter begins again, and I collapse against his chest. My tightly curled bronze locks fall over the red and white flannel shirt he's wearing. A pair of eyes is on me, and I know who it is before I look. My Jake. His eyes are so dark, they're nearly black. But they're endless, and I can see into his soul. We watch each other silently, over the festivities, and I begin to toy with the bracelet he gifted me again. Jake is my best friend, and he is mine.

"What's that over there? Do you see that, Ness?" Grandpa Charlie breaks through my thoughts a second time, and I still don't mind.

"Where?" I ask excitedly, my eyes following the direct he's pointing.

Behind the tree, near the bare area void of any ornaments, a tall present wrapped in green paper that blends in is tucked away in the corner. I vault off of Grandpa Charlie's lap and start to the tree to investigate. It's tall, taller than I am, and I struggle with trying to retrieve it from the hiding place. Before I know it, Jake is at my side. His warmth envelopes the space between us and I glance up at him with an excited grin. As soon as the present is in my hands, I murmur a whispered _thank you_ and begin tearing apart the wrapping paper. It floats down to land in a pile at my feet, and I can see something pink and shiny starting to materialize. With a few more careful tears, the green paper is gone and a fishing pole rests in my grasp. It already has string, which is also pink. Clutching it in a careful grip, I look up at Grandpa Charlie who's replaced Jake at my side.

"Thank you, Grandpa Charlie. I think this means I _have _to go fishing, right?" I say playfully.

"Everyone needs a good fishing pole, Ness. No ulterior motives here," he replies with his hands held up in mock innocence.

"Can I try it out? I can try it in the backyard. No one will see me from back there," I ask, looking to my parents for approval.

I see Momma give Daddy a look, but she nods her approval. Laboring my steps to match the human pace of Grandpa Charlie, we weave through the pack filling up the living room; tiny hand held by the larger one riddled with callouses. We stop only to pile on coats, scarves, mittens, and hats, then we're off. The cold air of December in the Pacific Northwest causes Grandpa Charlie to sink into the warmth of his jacket. Tiny snowflakes are starting to blanket the ground in a film of white.

"Alright, like this," Grandpa Charlie says, and I look up to him.

He's holds his empty hand up towards the sky, and I imagine him holding a sword to charge into battle. But instead of charging, he bends his arm back then flicks it forward. It seems simple enough. Mirroring his exact movements, the pink rod is raised to the sky then I extend my arm forward.

"Thatta girl, Ness! Just remember, when you're actually fishing, you have to push that button on the reel to release the line," he says as he walks over and points to what I believe are the reel and the button.

Nodding in a show of understanding, I practice a few more times, careful to avoid pressing the reel button. The falling snow is starting to turn my coat white, and with a glance back at Grandpa Charlie's house, I see Momma and Daddy watching us. My tiny hand, hidden in a mitten, raises in a wave before I turn back to practicing.

"You're a natural, Nessie. Now we've just got to teach you how to reel them in. That'll be for next time, it's getting chilly out here. I don't want you to catch a cold," he says with a definitive nod.

I can't tell him that it's very unlikely that I'll be catching a cold, so I just nod. Clutching my present, I follow Grandpa Charlie across the yard towards the house. Each time he raises his boots, my smaller ones step into the spot cleared by them. We follow this pattern all the way until we reach the back door. When we start inside to shed the weight of outerwear, the look on Momma's face tells me we have to leave soon. Her words soon announce it to Grandpa Charlie, and he bends down to lift me into his tight embrace. The whiskers of his mustache tickle my cheeks, and I giggle as he smothers my rosy cheeks with kisses.

"Grandpa! Stop, stop!" My giggles can be heard all over the house, and he finally stops, smiling so big that his eyes are nearly crinkled shut. "Thank you for my presents, especially my fishing pole. I love you, Grandpa Charlie."

"I love you more, Nessie. More than you'll ever know," He replies and smothers me against his coat still blanketed with snow.

But in this moment, I know. The smell of him all around me, our laughter blending together in a gruff melody, the careful cradle of his first grandchild in his arms; I know how much he loves me because I love him just as much; to the end of time.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is my first fanfic, and I appreciate any and all reviews/critiques.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Obviously, these characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm borrowing them solely for entertainment purposes.


End file.
